


take a look at what i found

by likebrightness



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gen, Post-Episode: s01e05, Pre-Relationship, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:46:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3324680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likebrightness/pseuds/likebrightness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Peggy knocks before she can think better of it. Hopes Angie wakes up before Miss Fry does.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	take a look at what i found

Peggy's not lit, exactly, but she has a bit of a buzz. Thompson bought her a bourbon and she bought herself a couple more, not sure when she'd have the chance to be treated like an equal again. 

Sneaking back into The Griffith has become second nature; she could do it blindfolded, she's fairly certain. A few drinks and the fog of exhaustion settling in change nothing. She makes it easily to her door, doesn't trip up until her keys are nowhere to be found. Picking the lock wouldn't be hard, exactly, but Peggy's not in the mood to ruin one of her hairpins. She's not in the mood to do much of anything but fall facedown onto a bed. 

Angie's door really is very close. 

And she hasn't seen the girl in days, probably the longest she's gone without seeing her since she became a regular at the automat.

Peggy knocks before she can think better of it. Hopes Angie wakes up before Miss Fry does. 

The door opens more quickly than she expected, and immediately Angie grabs her by the arm and pulls her inside. 

"Geez, Peggy, you know what time it is?" She closes the door very gently behind her. "You tryin' to get me in trouble? Miss Fry wouldn't mind throwing me out on my tail, I'm sure. And Broadway ain't gonna hire a homeless chorus girl."

Peggy giggles. "But it'd be a wonderful rags to riches story." 

Angie gives her one of those grins like Peggy's trouble, but Angie likes it. The lamp next to her bed is on but not bright, casts shadows across her face. She's wearing a blue polka dot pyjama set, pants and a button-down top with sleeves that hang past her wrists. 

"You sloshed, English?" 

"I lost my keys," Peggy says instead of answering. "Didn't want to be caught picking the lock." 

Angie laughs. "Of course you can pick locks. Why does that not surprise me?" 

Her grin is still big, sparkling in the low light. Peggy's chest feels warm. Maybe she's more drunk than she thought. 

"You want to crash here, then?" Angie says. "No problem as long as you're okay with me not apologizing for kicking you in my sleep." 

Peggy responds by toeing off her shoes and climbing into the bed. It's still sleep warm from Angie. Smells like her. 

"I got jammies if you want 'em," Angie says. "Might be too short though, on account of how far your legs go." 

"I can wear my slip," Peggy says into the pillow. She doesn't even think about getting out of the bed. 

"You're definitely sloshed, English."

Peggy makes the effort to sit up. "I'm not truly," she says. "I did have a drink with some coworkers but—"

"You went for drinks with guys from the phone company?" Angie heads to the kitchenette, gets a glass from the cupboard. 

"Yes," Peggy smiles. "Perhaps they actually are coming around."

Angie makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort of disbelief as she fills up the glass with water.

"It's about damn time they did," she says, walking back to the bed. "Drink this. Then get ready for bed. I got an early shift in the morning." 

She's not smiling like she was before, and Peggy feels like she's done something wrong. 

Peggy drinks the entire glass of water in one go. The act doesn't get more than a small smile from Angie, who takes the cup when she's done.

"Let me get you a refill, miss."

"You sure know how to get a good tip," Peggy plays along. 

Angie chuckles. "Can you imagine what the fellas in the automat would do if I wore these into work?" She shrugs her shoulders, emphasizing how loose the pyjamas are. "Definitely not fantasy waitress night-wear." 

Peggy doesn't know what to say to that. She thinks Angie looks lovely, but is afraid it will sound condescending if she says it. 

"Thank you for letting me stay," she says instead. She finally gets up, heading to the bathroom to change. She leaves the door open as she does it so they can still talk. 

"You think I'd leave ya to deal with Miss Fry?" Angie says. "I didn't convince ya to move in here just to let you get kicked out the first night you come home with a buzz." 

Peggy smiles. She knows, she _knows_ she shouldn't. Shouldn't even live here. Shouldn't be this close with Angie, not after Colleen. But Angie _did_ convince her, worked hard at convincing her. Peggy's never had anyone try so hard to keep her around. It's nice. 

Peggy washes her face and takes the pins out of her hair, crowding them together on the sink beside Angie's toothbrush. She's tired enough that she could have easily fallen asleep in her clothes. But she undresses and leaves them folded on the counter. 

Angie is still puttering around the kitchenette when Peggy comes out of the bathroom. She glances over and raises her eyebrows. 

"Now that outfit would definitely give me tips," she says. 

Peggy can't decide if she wants to cover up or show off. Before she has the chance to do either, Angie's turned back to the sink. 

"Sleep against the wall, would you? I always gotta pee in the middle of the night." 

Peggy climbs back into the bed and settles against the wall. 

Maybe Angie is always like this when you wake her up—flashes of her usual self but otherwise quieter. But Peggy still feels like the mood is her doing somehow. 

"How was your day?" she asks, trying to get her usual talkative Angie. 

"Had to skip work," Angie says. "Came down with a bad case of ennui." 

Peggy chuckles and snuggles into the pillows. "I'd heard that about you." 

"Did you now?" Angie's voice is closer, like she's finally left the kitchenette and is coming to bed. Peggy keeps her eyes closed. 

"Dottie mentioned something along those lines." 

"Man, English, first you get new drinking partners, now you're hanging around with _Dottie_?"

Peggy grins, already halfway asleep. "Jealous isn't your look, Miss Martinelli." 

"I ain't jealous," she says. "I just mean to point out that your taste in companions has gone downhill. I'm worried about ya, is all." 

Peggy doesn't open her eyes. She's too happy to have this Angie back to do anything but smile. 

Angie just keeps going. "I've always imagined the guys at the phone company like most of my customers, so I don't even have to explain how I feel about that. And Dottie? Some people might be into that blonde, doe-eyed thing she's got going, but you could do better, Pegs."

Peggy smiles so hard she pushes her face against the pillow to hide it. She feels warm and safe. Doesn't feel like a secret agent and isn't even bothered by that. Angie still hasn't gotten into bed or turned off the light; Peggy opens an eye to look at her. She's looking right back, hands on her hips, trying to hide her own smile. 

Peggy closes her eyes and says, "Please, Angie, you know you're my best girl."

Her heart beats faster than she'd like. She wouldn't have said that if she didn't have some liquor in her, if it weren't so late. But she did, and now there's nothing to do but pretend it didn't mean more than it should have. 

Angie doesn't say anything more, clicks off the lamp and clambers into bed. Peggy's worry that she tipped her hand is more or less confirmed by the way Angie throws her arm around her waist. Peggy discovers that she really doesn't mind.


End file.
